


Mark's Bar Mitzvah (or That Time Mark Got Drunk at Synagogue)

by JetGirl1832, tomatopudding



Series: Friends Make Life A Lot More Fun [2]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Bar & Bat Mitzvah, Friendship, Gen, Kid Fic, Middle School, Pre-Canon, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetGirl1832/pseuds/JetGirl1832, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is becoming a man. What better way to celebrate than a drink? Or two. Or three. Or seven.</p><p> </p><p>February 1982</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mark's Bar Mitzvah (or That Time Mark Got Drunk at Synagogue)

“You’re coming with me,” Roger put a hand on Mark’s shoulder and dragged him through the crowd of people.

 

“Where are you taking me?” Mark asked as he was being forced to walk backwards.

 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Roger smirked as he continued to guide his friend, “Mo Mo you coming with us?” he called out to Maureen as he walked past her.

 

“Oh finally something to liven up this party!” Maureen grinned and she bounded over to them, “what’s up?”

 

“We are corrupting Marky-Mark,” Roger grinned.

 

"Ooo!" Maureen squealed, hooking her arm in Mark's so that he couldn't run.

 

"Oh come on guys knock it off!" Mark complained as he tried to get free from their grasp.

 

"Nope, this night is about you becoming a man isn't it?" Roger asked as they started towards the men's room.

 

"I still don't see what you're getting at," Mark raised his eyebrows.

 

"We're going to make you into a man," Roger stopped just outside the door, "Mo Mo would you do the honors?"

 

"I thought you would never ask," Maureen winked and pushed the door open, "so what exactly is the plan maestro?"

 

Roger pulled a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and shook it slightly, the liquid sloshing inside. Mark's eyes widened as he connected the dots.

 

"No... No, no, no!" Mark began to protest, "if I get caught my mom will kill me!"

 

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger buddy boy," Roger nearly shoved him into the bathroom.

 

Maureen giggled, "Buddy boy," she closed the door behind them, "Have fun, you two, I'll keep watch."

 

Roger unscrewed the top and waved it under Mark's nose, "It's good," he sing-songed. Mark looked away, but Roger could see by his posture that he was beginning to give in. Roger had always had that influence on Mark, a terrible rule-breaking influence.

 

"If I do this will you stop?" Mark looked at Roger, "please?"

 

Roger grinned, knowing he won, "No promises."

 

The door opened and Mark's heartbeat raced thinking he was going to get caught, but it was just Maureen peering in, "Well?" she asked impatiently.

 

"I hate you guys," Mark grumbled, but he grabbed the flask all the same and took a large swallow. It burned down his throat like the smell of bleach burned his nose.

 

"How do you feel?" Roger asked, as Mark lowered the flask.

 

“That was horrible…” Mark shuddered.

 

“You have officially started treading down the dark winding path of corruption!” Maureen declared dramatically.

 

"The first sip is always terrible," Roger scoffed, "Wuss."

 

"I'm not a wuss!" Mark replied defensively.

 

"You're not? Prove it," Roger replied in daring tone.

 

"Come on Rog," Mark sighed, "we're not in 3rd grade anymore."

 

"Fraidy cat!" Maureen taunted, disproving the point that Mark had just made.

 

Mark glanced back and forth between his two best friends, what could he do? He inhaled deeply before taking another swig from the flask, he sputtered and coughed a bit as it went down, "There? Happy now?"

 

"Oh come on Marky, you can do better than that!" Maureen actually walked into the bathroom to join them.

 

"Maureen," Mark hissed, "This is the men's room! My Rabbi will flip if he finds you in here!"

 

“So what?” Maureen shrugged and tossed her hair over one shoulder, “you worry too much, besides it’s no fun waiting around outside.”

 

"But-"

 

"Mark," Roger said seriously, wrapping his friend's hand around the flask, "Drink it."

 

Mark frowned slightly as he took the flask and drank from it once again, he was starting to feel really... What was the was the word? Light headed maybe?

 

Maureen and Roger shared a look that Mark didn't trust, or at least be thought he didn't trust it, things were currently rather swimmy.

 

Maybe this stuff wasn't so bad after all, Mark mused but at this point it felt like the whole world had started to spin.

 

"Maybe he should slow down," a Maureen whispered to Roger.

 

Roger simply grinned, "But this is hilarious!"

 

"Do you want to explain this to Mrs Cohen."

 

Roger's eyes widened, "Shit."

 

"Okay Marky," Maureen put her arm around his shoulder, "let's get you out of here..."

 

"The lights look like fairies," Mark slurred out blearily, "Don't take me away from the fairies, they need my help."

 

Maureen gave Roger a concerned look, "What the hell are we going to do? If Mrs. Cohen finds him like this..." she was starting to panic.

 

"Mo chill," Roger looked her directly in the eyes, "we'll figure this out."

 

"Oh god..." Maureen groaned.

 

"Waterslide," Mark giggled. He touched the tip of his finger to Maureen's nose, "Boop!"

 

Maureen didn't know what to make of the drunk Mark Cohen who stood before her. But she could hear Roger standing beside her muffling his laughter, "Hey you, grab an arm and let's get him out of here!" She growled. Roger rolled his eyes and together the two of them made an effort to drag him through the party and out back behind the synagogue to the alley.

 

"Okay so maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Roger sighed and leaned up against the wall.

 

"No shit Sherlock," Maureen glared at him and looked back at the inebriated Mark.

 

"Fuck off, Watson," Roger mumbled back, chuckling slightly at his joke before getting serious again.

 

Maureen shot him a dirty look and began to pace, her previously styled hair was starting fall out of place. She saw a shadow up ahead of her and her heart was beating in her chest, "Roger..." Her voice was low, as she backed towards him, "I don't think we're alone," she squeaked.

 

"Mo Mo relax, who else could be here?" Roger stood next to her, the shadows shifted and got closer and someone shouted "Who's there?"

 

"Go and check it out," Maureen whispered to Roger.

 

"Me? Why should I go?" Roger hissed back.

 

"Because you're a big strong guy and I'm not!" Maureen whined.

 

"Who else is there?" The voice called out again and shadow got closer until they could make out two figures in the half light.

 

"Cindy?" Roger called out.

 

"Roger?" Cindy approached them, her hair was mussed and lipstick smudged and there was a boy behind her, "Maureen and Mark? What are you doing here?"

 

"I could ask you the same," Maureen smirked.

 

Cindy blushed and glanced away, "None of your business."

 

"Cindy!" Mark exclaimed, causing Roger to groan and cover his face, "Cindy, they won't let me help the bathroom fairies!"

 

Cindy looked at Mark in shock, "What the hell is wrong with him?" She asked as she made an attempt to fix her hair.

 

"Nothing is wrong with him," Roger folded his arms across his chest, Maureen stifled a snort of laughter as she watched the exchange.

 

"Did you get my brother drunk?" Cindy asked, appalled, when she leaned close to smell his breath, "At his Bar Mitzvah!"

 

"That depends," Roger responded slyly, "Did you sneak outside to make out with your non-Jewish boyfriend at your brother's Bar Mitzvah?"

 

Cindy flushed, "He's not my...how did you know?"

 

"It's a skill."

 

"Hi there Max," Maureen waved as the boy got closer.

 

The boy, Max, refused to meet Maureen's eyes, "Hi, Mo."

 

At Cindy's look, Maureen just smiled smugly, "He's my neighbor." Roger, of course, knew that there was more to the history between the two of them, but he liked Cindy enough not to reveal that. If it had been anybody else, he would have definitely rubbed it in her face.

 

"I-I'm going to tell my mother!" Cindy turned red as her frustration grew.

 

"Are you so sure about that?" Roger replied, "we could just as easily tell her about you and what's his name?" He turned towards Maureen.

 

"Max," Maureen supplied.

 

"Much obliged Mo Mo," Roger gave a curt nod if his head.

 

Mark contributed a small giggle to the conversation and Cindy sighed, looking rather upset and put-upon. "Fine," she said, "Fine! Max, go inside to the dessert table and get some coffee, black and bitter. And you," she turned on Roger, poking a finger into his chest, "You breath a word about this and I'll do the same, got it?"

 

"Scouts honor," Roger held up three fingers.

 

"Rog were you ever a Boy Scout?" Maureen whispered.

 

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged.

 

"This is so ridiculous," Cindy muttered, pulling out a compact mirror and beginning to fix her smudged makeup, "Absolutely ridiculous."

 

"So where is your boy toy and his coffee?" Roger asked, "we can't exactly bring him back in there like this."

 

"Don't mess with me, Roger Davis," Cindy shot back, "I'm not afraid to go upside your head."

 

"Rowr..." Roger laughed, "them is fighting words Cindy Cohen."

 

Maureen just rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to tell them to get a room. Roger had been crushing on Cindy for as long as she could remember and she wasn't completely convinced that Cindy didn't feel it too.

 

"Uhhg," Cindy rolled her eyes, "you're so immature."

 

"Hey, I have bucket loads of maturity!" Roger protested.

 

Another giggle emerged from Mark's direction and Cindy raised an eyebrow.

 

"Right, maturity. Because maturity is what caused you to make my brother get drunk on his Bar Mitzvah."

 

"Hey he's supposed to become a man today isn't he?" Roger stuck his hands in his pockets, "Thought that I could help him along the way."

 

"It's a guy thing, it must be a guy thing," Cindy said to the air, "Only a guy would think that alcohol equates to adulthood."

 

Roger sheepishly looked at the ground, slightly feeling bad for what he'd done to Mark. But then the door opened and out ran Max carrying the coffee Cindy'd had him fetch for Mark.

  
"Go back inside, Roger," Cindy sighed, "You too, Maureen. I've got this under control."


End file.
